


Shut Your Mouth or I'll Shut it For You

by Mafdet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, not really gore or anythin although I really should write some of that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafdet/pseuds/Mafdet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>request  by MxCapa of Roddy/Deadlock with Roddy gettin the shit beaten out of him</p>
<p>Basically don't put these two in a locked room together, someone's gonna end up incapacitated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Your Mouth or I'll Shut it For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MxCapa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxCapa/gifts).



All things considered, Deadlock was probably having a pretty bad day. Not that Hot Rod was having a great day either, but being a Decepticon murderer that had gotten captured alive by Autobot forces really had to suck slag, more slag than say, being the guy assigned to watch him for security detail. Roddy huffed- the guy didn’t have any weapons- well, not anymore after they had put the stasis lock on him, he couldn’t transform, honestly what harm could he do locked in a cell with a video feed? Surely nothing that required an actual guard to sit there and watch him. Still Magnus had assured him that yes, this was needed, and so here he was, stuck in quite possibly the most boring room possible, watching a Decepticon do exactly nothing _._ At least the guy was pretty quiet, Deadlock was letting him rant about nothing, which was a lot better than dealing with some shouty Stunticon. The boring job still sort of stung, but he’d manage.

~

It had been _hours_. Hot Rod had been trapped down here in a stuffy holding unit with a vaguely unnerving Decepticon and, having not been told when his shift ended, had resorted to ranting to his captive audience about anything and everything that happened to cross his processor at the moment.

“-I mean Decepticons can’t really _stop_ their instincts, but we can’t really let them just go walking around so I guess that means…” Hot Rod trailed off as he saw the look on Deadlock’s face, finally something other than abject boredom, and how his eyes were narrowed slightly and how his lip was starting to curl a little bit, and-

Roddy was suddenly _extremely_ aware of how they were in the same room and how Deadlock’s lip was curling more by the minute and Hot Rod quite suddenly was struck by the fact that that he’d probably said something wrong. Something extremely wrong, judging by how squinty Deadlock’s crimson optics were getting just now. Roddy x-vented and tried to salvage the situation.

“Well I mean not _all_ “Cons are like that. You know just some like the Constructicons. And Megatron, but probably not you-” Hot Rod stopped his babbling mid-sentence and gave a much higher pitched chuckle than he’d normally have as Deadlock practically _stalked_ up to him, lip curl evolving into a full-on snarl as the “helpless” mech glared up at him, standing uncomfortably close for a moment before violently kneeing Hot Rod square in the abdominal plates. Roddy felt his fuel tanks churn and he took a moment to restabilize himself as he stared at Deadlock, all his previous concerns confirmed as he looked down into some very angry crimson optics. He only had a second to stare, and then his legs were kicked out from under him and he found himself quite suddenly on the ground with a foot on his chest and an ache in his back.

Deadlock pressed down and although Roddy liked to think of himself as having a decent level of pain tolerance it _hurt_ when Deadlock twisted his pede, getting the toe up under his chest plating and shoving it in and up _._ He felt a lot of delicate things grinding painfully to a halt, crushed under the pressure. Several energon lines also popped under there right off the bat, nothing major that could offline him from fluid loss, thankfully, but enough to send additional twinges of pain skittering across his systems. He made an odd rasping noise as he began leaking and dripping energon around Deadlock’s foot and spattering onto the floor. More importantly, he couldn’t really see it from his position splayed out on the floor but beyond the searing pain he could feel cool air on his protoform, which was never a good sign in a fight (or in any situation, really). The ‘con’s ventilations picked up and Hot Rod gave a small, involuntary tremor, still trapped flat and on his back underneath Deadlock’s pede.

Gray and white metal gleamed under the holding unit’s poor lighting as Deadlock leaned over Hot Rod, close enough that their helms were almost touching. He stayed there for an uncomfortable few moments, before finally speaking.

“You’re all so _petty_.” He punctuated this with another grind of his heel, and Roddy, unable to handle his slagging body’s sensory input practically writhed, grasping futilely at Deadlock’s lower leg in an attempt to make him move it. “You Autobots, walking around like self-righteous, pompous fraggers who have everything worked out. Your moral codes and all. Do you have any idea what you look like to everyone who _isn’t_ a glitch-headed, processor-damaged idiot?”

One of Deadlock’s hands, previously out of Hot Rod’s view, was suddenly getting very frighteningly close to Roddy’s head. Much too close. He shuttered his optics, cringing away as best he could when he felt the ‘con’s servos wrap around one of the outcropping spikes on his helm and start to pull.

The insistent tugging escalated faster than Hot Rod expected, going from what, in other circumstances could have been rather pleasant to painful wrenching that he could feel in the base of the spike- a surprisingly strong grip that, slowly but surely was bending… bending… _bending_ (Primus he could practically hear the metal start to tear) and with a particularly vehement yank and a sickening snap an entire half of the thing came off into Deadlock’s hand, spraying energon over Roddy’s faceplates and smudging on part of the Decepticon’s hand.

Deadlock looked slightly pleased (if he could look pleased while baring his denta like a fragging cougaraider), and Hot Rod arched his back off the floor and _shrieked_ . Really, it was a miracle (albeit not from Primus, as far as Roddy was concerned) that no one had heard this mess by now. Probably an unfortunate side effect from surprisingly effect, albeit hastily installed soundproofing after an incident involving a certain Seeker who _didn’t know how to shut up_.

Pleased or no, Deadlock snarled again and finally, _finally_ removed his pede from Hot Rod’s internals and more or less stood up, dragging the unfortunate Autobot to his feet with him. Roddy staggered at the unexpected reorientation and coughed, a globule of vibrant energon further stained his face. The loss was still nowhere near fatal, but enough delicate circuitry had been damaged that at the very least it would be exceedingly painful, if not incapacitating. Hot Rod’s vision flickered and he swayed on his pedes

“And you _,_ ” There was an abrupt shove towards the wall, Deadlock shoving his forearm against Hot Rod’s throat, pinning him to the wall and severely denting the delicate throat plating in the process but clearly not caring a bit. Deadlock downright _growled_.

“You all preach about _peace_ and _unity_ and what do the rest of us get? We get taken captive, thrown in your filthy prisons to rot in stasis lock, unable to use even our natural functions!” He drew back his arm not currently forcing Roddy against the wall, curling his servos into a well-practiced fist and let fly.

Hot Rod made a noise somewhere in between an exhalation and a groan, and Deadlock somehow managed to narrow his optics even further, clearly having expected more of a reaction than that. He tried again, this time aiming for the face, fracturing one optic in the process. Still, instead of a fully-formed cry, this time all he managed to evoke was a grunt, and Hot Rod sagged even more in his grip. Deadlock snorted, disappointed, and let Roddy fall unceremoniously to the floor, straightening his shoulders and spreading his pedes in what appeared to be a victorious pose, probably meant to make him look bigger. It certainly was working, at least from Hot Rod’s vantage point from the floor, where his visuals were flickering as he attempted to stave off unconsciousness. He heard what he thought was a chuckle.

“Should have expected this, honestly.” Hot Rod heard another snort, and the sound of pedes walking away, presumably to examine the locked door. His visuals shut down completely, and everything seemed too loud, too much. Deadlock’s voice came again, warped by his shutting down processor. “ You glitches can’t even stay awake for a proper beatdown.” and his processor went blank.


End file.
